The client is one Captain Morrison, a retired Army officer living solely on his half pay.
His daughter is involved in the astonishing affair.

Indeed, it is at her earnest appeal that the matter has been brought to my notice.

As the Captain is in too weak a state of health to journey any distance, I am going to ask you to meet me at No.

17, Sunnington Crescent, Wandsworth--a house kept by one Mrs.Culpin, widow of one of my Yard men, at three o'clock this afternoon.

Knowing your reluctance to have your identity disclosed, I have taken the liberty of giving you the name you adopted in the Bawdrey affair, to wit: 'George Headland.' I have also taken the same precaution with regard to the Morrisons, leaving you to disclose your identity or not, as you see fit." Glad enough for anything to distract his thoughts from the brooding state of melancholy into which they had sunk, Cleek looked up a time-table, caught the 2:47 train from Victoria Station; and Narkom, walking into Mrs.Culpin's modest little drawing-room at two minutes past three, found him standing in the window and looking thoughtfully out at the groups of children romping on the near-by common.
"Well, here I am at last, you see, my dear fellow," he said, as he crossed the room and shook hands with him.